


Embracing Fear Odds and Ends

by shell_senji



Series: Embracing Fear [2]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Nurarihyon no Mago | Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Post-Canon, Romance, Side Story, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shell_senji/pseuds/shell_senji
Summary: One-shots or vignettes from Embracing Fear that don't fit within the main storyline or written just for fun. Chapter 1: Kagome/Rikuo





	1. Revenge Served Cold or Why You Should Let Sleepy Women Lie

I was inspired by impracticaldemon's fluffy cuddle vignette on tumblr, but my characters apparently didn't want to cooperate for "sweet."

Set in my Embracing Fear universe (Inuyasha x Nurarihyon no Mago crossover), but it isn't necessary to have read it. This either takes place sometime in the future where the main storyline is concerned, with established Kagome/Rikuo, or is just a little bonus one-shot.

* * *

"I'm sleepy. And cold," Kagome complained, cuddling up against him, all but crawling into his lap.

Rikuo laughed lightly. "Hang on, blue eyes, let me reposition."

She sat back on her heels on the other side of the sofa, and he turned so his back was leaned against the armrest and his legs stretched out the full length. Then he gave a jerk of his chin, and she shimmied up him, laying her head on his lower abdomen.

Then she hummed softly, wriggling as though to get comfortable. When he looked down, he saw her lips twisted in distaste. "Problems?"

She slanted her gaze up at him, still frowning. "Yes. Scoot down."

Her command had him cracking up, his laughter jostling her, which apparently did _not_ amuse Kagome, who tugged on him to move. Rikuo shifted again, moving down a little further, and she immediately snuggled up higher, up under the curve of his arm, resting her head against his chest.

This time she let out a contented sigh, eyes closing. "Mmm… You're toasty."

After a moment, he murmured teasingly, "Is that all I am to you? A heat source?"

"Yes, a youki-powered bed warmer. Now hush," she said tartly.

"We're on the sofa," he pointed out.

She cracked open one eye to glare at him. "Bed warmer, sofa warmer, whatever."

"'Whatever'? Oi, oi…" Rikuo ran his hand down her spine to cup her ass. "This bed warmer takes exception to being demoted to a 'whatever.' Besides…" He pinched her butt, eliciting an indignant squeak and slap on the chest. "Pretty sure you don't really think that."

Kagome propped up on her elbow, expression fierce. "What part of 'sleepy' did you not understand?"

_Damn but she's gorgeous when she's riled up_. He took the opportunity to give her a quick kiss. When he pulled back before she was ready, he arched an eyebrow at her pout. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were sleepy?"

In a flash, Kagome was straddling him, lips curved in a sinful grin. "I was. But someone ruined my nap." She began to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, slapping away his hands when he went to touch her. "No, no touching. Payback's a bitch."

In response, Rikuo laced his hands together behind his head, smirking. "By all means, blue eyes, please, make me pay."

He could tell she was fuming as she jerked his belt from the belt loops of his pants, her eyes lit with the challenge. Then she paused, a slow smile spreading across her face. She climbed off his lap and held up a hand when he started to ask where the hell she was going.

"Be right back."

Rikuo shrugged. He heard the fridge open and close, but when she returned, her hands were empty. _Maybe she was thirsty?_

Still smiling, Kagome straddled him again, sitting across his thighs, and tugged his zipper down, letting her fingers brush teasingly as she did so. _Oh, fuck, yes…_ Rikuo let his eyes close.

Which was a _huge_ mistake.

The instant his lids shut, icy cold water hit his crotch, and he yelped as he jolted upright. "What the fuck?"

Cackling wickedly, Kagome reclined against the far armrest, a bottle of water, which she'd evidently hidden somewhere earlier, clutched in her hands. "I told you…payback's a bitch."

Once the initial shock wore off—and he'd re-zipped his pants—Rikuo pounced on her, throwing her over his shoulder, ignoring her shrieks.

"Put me down, damnit!" Her attempts at sounding angry failed miserably considering the interspersed giggles.

"Oh, I will…"

When he got to the bathroom, the giggling trailed off. Followed by, "No…don't even think about that… Rikuo, don't you _dare_! Rikuo…Rikuo—"

Two minutes later, they were both soaked to the skin, still fully clothed, the bathroom completely covered in water. _Cold_ water.

Kagome shoved wet hair out of her eyes and fisted her hands on her hips. "I hope you have your affairs in order, _Sandaime_ … Because I am going to _kill_ you!"

He dodged with superior yokai speed when she reached for him, chuckling. "What was it you said earlier? Payback's a bi—" As a particularly intense shock hit him, he let out a startled yip of pain. "Hey, no using reiki, damnit! Oi…quit that!"

Kagome grinned. "But I thought you said you wanted me to make you pay?"

"Not like— Ow, fuck! Stop it, will ya?"

Eyes sparkling mischievously, Kagome spread her hands wide. "Perhaps you should've been more specific, then. Or…maybe you should have just been content to cuddle and let me nap!"

"Okay, okay"—another yelp—"I'm sorry! Naptime it is, then."

Looking ever so smug at her victory, Kagome slung her arms around his neck and then wrapped her legs around his waist. "Oh, but I'm not sleepy anymore…" she purred in his ear.

He laughed. He couldn't win with her. "Well, in that case… How about we get out of these wet clothes?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading!

 


	2. Anticipatory Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Sabina-san for beta-ing and also for her support.

 

**Note:** This scene occurs after Rikuo leaves Tōno in chapter 17 of Embracing Fear. Established Zen/Itaku. I opted not to include it because it wasn't _truly_ necessary. On the other hand, it's a little fragment of the background goings-on in EF for those who are curious. I don't know where it sprouted from, honestly, perhaps these characters just demanding more "screen time" so to speak.

* * *

"You know what Rikuo wants, don't you?" Zen asked when Itaku returned.

Itaku tilted his head slightly, arching an eyebrow.

Zen snorted. "I'll take that as a no. Well, in that case, you're on your own."

" _Tch_. You Nura yokai are all the same. Obnoxious pains in my ass." The slight upward curve of one side of his mouth did not go unnoticed by Zen, however.

"Oh? Then why are you smiling?" He started laughing when Itaku scowled at him. "You ought to know by now that face doesn't work on me…" Zen trailed off as his lungs seized and the hacking coughs began.

His chest and throat burned, and dizziness washed over him as he coughed. _Fuck… I hope I don't pass out again._ Zen _really_ hated it when that happened. Not only did it make him feel weak and pathetic, but it did a damn fine job of freaking out everyone around him.

Blood splattered the floor, seeping through his fingers as his coughs grew more violent. _Speaking of freaking people out…_

"Zen!"

Gone was the sarcastic tone, and instantly Itaku was behind him, rubbing his back. "You okay?"

_Oh sure, I'm damn skippy._ He drew in a wheezing breath and choked out, "Yeah, just…gimme a minute…?"

He heard Itaku exhale harshly. "If you're sure you're fine…?"

Zen nodded as best he could. Fortunately, the tightness in his chest was easing somewhat, and the coughs lessening.

"Be right back."

As anticipated, Itaku returned with something to clean up the blood and some water for Zen. When Zen moved to help him clean, Itaku smacked his hands away and shoved him toward the futon. "Go lie down."

The kamaitachi was tense, jaw clenched as he mopped up the blood and tossed the rags in a trash bag. Zen sighed. "Sorry about the mess."

Golden eyes slanted his direction. "We've talked about this. Don't apologize."

"We talk about a lot of things. Or rather, I talk about a lot of things and you occasionally do."

Itaku didn't respond, not that Zen really expected him to. He rubbed his lips to hide a grin.

"Or I talk and you ignore me. If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me."

Predictably, Itaku didn't comment on that either. _Oooo, he's in a mood today._

Much as Itaku's coping mechanism was often to get prickly or aloof, Zen's go-to was sarcasm and dry humor—unfortunately, not always a harmonious match.

"Hey, that's one thing to look forward to when I kick the bucket, right? Fewer bloodstains everywhere."

Zen didn't even have a chance to smirk before Itaku was upon him, fisting his hand in the front of Zen's yukata and hauling his face close. "Gods _damnit_ , Zen! How many times do I have to tell you that's not fucking funny?" A muscle jumped in his jaw as Itaku ground his teeth. "Do _not_ make me repeat myself."

Zen chuckled and slid a hand around the back of Itaku's neck, bringing him closer so he could rest his forehead against Itaku's. He _did_ know Itaku didn't find his gallows humor amusing, yet… "You're way too easy, ya know that? One stupid little joke, and now I've got your complete attention."

Itaku closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. "You're a jackass."

Zen flopped back onto the futon, pulling Itaku with him. "Yeah, but I'm _your_ jackass."

"Lucky me."

Neither man spoke for a moment, each listening to the other breathe—Itaku's even and nigh inaudible, Zen's raspy and shallow.

"Your coughing episodes are getting more frequent, aren't they?" Itaku's voice was deceptively calm, but Zen didn't miss the slight tremble in the hand resting on his chest.

Zen shrugged. "Fuck if I know." He did know, and he knew Itaku did too. _But no point dwelling on the inevitable_.

He'd accepted his fate a long time ago—before Itaku, his only real goal was surviving to see his sworn brother become the Third Heir and leader of the Nura clan. When that was met, he had been content to enjoy whatever time was left.

But now… Zen didn't fear death; that much had not changed. However, what _had_ changed was his attitude toward the amount of time until he died, no longer satisfied with the increasingly shorter time span remaining.

He wanted more.

_More time…with him_.

"Have you talked to Rikuo?"

"About?" He was stalling. He knew Itaku was asking if he'd told Rikuo about his plans to step down as the head of the Yakushi sect, to transfer leadership to his younger brother who had recently come of age. He didn't relish the thought of doing so—not only did Rikuo have a tendency to get upset when Zen discussed dying, but it also meant acknowledging the reality that his health was failing—that his time left was waning.

"You know damn well what. You're pushing yourself too hard, and you need to—"

"Hey, knock it off with the overprotective bullshit. I get enough of that from Rikuo," Zen growled. "I don't appreciate either of you treating me like a damn bedridden invalid."

The hand on his chest curled into a fist. "You _are_ an invalid, idiot."

" _Tch_. I may be sick, but I'm not dead yet, asshole. So if you're finished moping, I can think of far more enjoyable things to do with our time…" He paused before adding, "Unless you're not up to it, of course."

Itaku's head popped up, his eyes lit with the challenge, and he snaked a hand behind Zen's head to pull him into a bruising kiss. "Be more worried about whether or not _you're_ up for it."

"Look at it this way—" Zen's hoarse chuckle morphed into a moan as Itaku's hands slipped inside his yukata. "If you kill me, what a way to go!"

Itaku snarled and the kisses he laid along Zen's jaw and neck were none too gentle, but Zen grinned all the same. For now, at least, the brooding moroseness was gone and his fierce Tōno warrior was back, and they could forget about life and death and everything in between.

Neither would speak their ever-present mutual wish.

_Just a little more time…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> For those who don't know, anticipatory grief is just as it sounds—grieving the death of a loved one (or oneself) prior to their death, typically close to the time of their death. For the record, speaking from past experience, it sucks.


	3. You Can't Fight Pain with Pain (even when you want to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This is from Sōta's POV, set during those interim eight years before Kagome meets Rikuo. It's in present tense, which I rarely write in. Don't ask me why—I just follow the whim of my muse. Also, a shout-out and thank you to KatiasXIII for the (albeit probably unintentional) inspiration for this :-)

The punch catches him in the cheekbone, the pain making his eyes water. That's going to leave one hell of a bruise, but Sōta doesn't back down.

Instead, he gives a jeering laugh. "You call that a punch? Please. Your mom hits harder than that…"

He's hoping to provoke the guy further, and his taunt works. The guy's fist slams into his jaw with greater force than the first punch, sending him staggering back and splitting his lip.

Sōta spits blood to the side and grins. He welcomes the pain, welcomes the way the adrenaline rush of a fight makes him feel. It's a high he craves, anything to avoid thinking about _her_. About _that_.

This is his way of coping, has been for the last three years. He's a bit of a delinquent, unafraid of fighting anyone, no matter how much bigger they are than him or how many outnumber him. These days, he doesn't lose much, partly because all too often they run away when they realize he has no fear. _Zero fucks given,_ he thinks with a harsh laugh.

He keeps his grades up, of course—he might be a little crazy, but he's not stupid. Picking fights is one thing; ruining his future is quite another. It's an incongruity that baffles his teachers and fellow students alike.

Sōta wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm, straightens himself, and rolls his shoulders, savoring the surprise and apprehension on the faces of the dumbasses who walked right into his trap.

If there's one thing he can say for bullies, it's that they're delightfully easy to exploit.

* * *

His mom reacts predictably when she sees his bloodied and swollen face. "Sōta! Sweetheart, what happened? Did you get into a fight again? Are you okay?"

It's been going on for years, yet she still treats it like a novelty, something he will never understand.

"I'm fine…" he says sullenly, stomping upstairs to his room. Before he can slam his bedroom door, a hand grabs it, keeping it from closing.

It's Kagome.

Her blue-eyed gaze moves over his injuries, and she sighs, shaking her head. But she says nothing, and her eyes remain as empty as they have for years.

There was a time when she would have panicked and fussed like their mother. A time when she would have healed the injuries immediately. But not anymore. Not since _that_.

Now, she leaves his room silently, returning a few minutes later with a first aid kit and an ice pack.

"You know this upsets Mama," she says finally, dabbing at his split lip with disinfectant that burns oh so good.

"Uh-huh," he replies. Same song, different verse. Kagome's heart isn't in her chastisement. Her heart isn't in anything anymore. It's broken, shattered in a way seemingly beyond repair.

Sōta's heart is shattered too, in a different way, but broken nonetheless. He used to fear for his sister each time she went to the Sengoku era, felt helpless every time she came home hurt, physically or mentally or emotionally. He might have been young, but he wasn't blind. The danger she faced terrified him, and he worried about the changes he saw in her as time went by.

But change was—is—inevitable, and he accepted it. Until _that_ day.

When the well closed four years ago, his sister came back irrevocably changed. And she refused to speak of it, of any of it. Of any of _them_.

The sharp, stinging cold of the ice on his face startles him out of his thoughts, and he's grateful for it. He doesn't want to think about it anymore either. Doesn't want to think about how much it hurts to have lost not only his honorary hanyō big brother, but also his sister. Because while Kagome is there in body…she isn't in spirit.

He swears under his breath, and his sister merely raises an eyebrow, likely assuming he's cursing the pain. And he is, in a way, cursing the fact that it isn't working today. It isn't driving these agonizing thoughts and memories away like it's supposed to.

He flings the ice pack at Kagome. "Get out," he snaps.

She just nods, collecting the first aid things, and leaves quietly. She is always quiet now. Too quiet. It makes him angry, but he doesn't lash out at her like he wants to. He won't. He _can't_. It would be like kicking a puppy, and deep down, Sōta is too kindhearted to hurt her just because he is hurting too.

He snatches a cigarette out of his hidden stash, the one he's fairly certain Kagome is aware of since at times cigarettes go missing. Then he climbs out his window and sits the roof, smoking and watching the sunset.

He clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth, as unwanted memories of him sitting up here with Inu-onii-chan surface. The fresh cuts on his cheeks and lips burn from the salt of his tears, but it's a pain he relishes, focusing on it as intently as possible, trying in vain to banish the specters of the past that haunt him. That haunt all of them.

Sōta hasn't told anyone, but he's already made up his mind. As is his grandfather's hope, he will take over the shrine. He doesn't want that burden to fall on Kagome, and he's thrilled she will be moving out in a few weeks when she starts college. She needs to get away from the constant reminders of all that she has lost.

He couldn't protect her back then, and he can't fix her now, but he will do what he can to protect her going forward. He knows, with his meager spiritual sensitivity, that she returned _that_ day with far more power than before as well as... _something_ else, but he holds on to the hope that despite that, she'll never again be mixed up in any sort of supernatural nonsense.

He doesn't know if there are yokai here in the present. There was a time he would have wanted to know, would have wanted there to be. But not now. Now, he hopes they've all gone extinct and that his sister can eventually find peace.

That they _all_ can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> Yes, it hurt me to write, and no, I don't get off on torturing the characters, I assure you. But I will fight you if you try to tell me Sōta wouldn't be affected by all that transpired (EF 'verse or canon, tbh).


End file.
